Middle Eastern Trouble
by DarkPencil
Summary: The birth of magic in the world divided into two - Harry gets sent far from Britain for his own protection, what awaits him in the world of the natural magi of the middle east? This story is AU and post 5th year


An/: this story is a NaNo unbetaed project. I'll eventually go back and edit it. Flame away, but don't expect me to get too upset. This story is AU post 5th year, though I'm not going to have him sob about Sirius for the next million years. Sue me.

"It was the only way" – at least, that what's the English wizard kept telling himself. Warming the pool of cold dread clenched in his stomach with the muttered consolation. Britain has long ago passed from underneath the aluminum-bellied plane and across the monotonous blue of the ocean he saw the exotic Middle East draw near. The occupants of the plane chattered amongst themselves excitedly, most probably headed for some vacation spot by the water or other. Harry just stared glumly at his ticket, the muggle numbers shifting under his practiced eye into the burnished gold certificate that would gain him entrance into the charedi wizarding world.

_He was walking down Privet Drive on his way back from the market; Bags of fruit and meat weighing heavily in his arms. Although Dumbledore had insisted that he not leave 100ft of his house at no.4, Harry couldn't convince his rapidly reddening uncle Vernon to allow him to forgo the shopping and do some chore at home instead so he simply truged out, rather then to face his uncle's wrath. Harry was broken out of his musings when he saw the perfect whitewashed door to no.4 shattered open, the splinters hanging loosely on their hinges. He dropped the bags of groceries and slid his wand out from his sleeve, keeping it ready._

_He stepped quietly into the house and once he entered the range of the silencing charm he could hear the animalistic screams of his aunt from upstairs. Harry recoiled form the sound just in time to avoid a silent purple curse from the kitchen which left a long, burned scar on the walls. Harry twirled his wand in response, incanting in his mind one of the curses he drilled into his classmates during the DA: "AvasNIN!"_

_The modified cutting curse designed for masonry was very much unsuited for dueling as the hidden deatheater discovered. The spinning blade of force cut his masked face clean in two and he dropped to the floor with a muffled thump. Harry's wandtip trembled from the emotional backlash of killing someone when another scream rending the silence helped him regain his resolve. He cast the patronus charm and whispered to it_

_"Go to Dumbledore. Tell him the deatheaters are attacking and that I need help"_

_The proud stag nodded and bounded through the wall at superhuman speeds towards the Scotland castle. Trying to ignore the rapidly spreading pool of blood, Harry walked towards the stairs, stepping over the third stair that always creaks. Every chilling scream making him want to rush in all the at once, he felt a shudder run though the house and the screams stopped. It took Harry a moment to realize that the blood protections must have fallen – and that there was no longer any need to help what remained of his family. _

_Throwing caution to the winds, Harry bound down the stairs, casting few trip jinxes on the stairs behind him. Harry's heart thudded in his chest as his thoughts raced. He needed to get out of there, now. Hearing muffled voices and a creak on the stairs, Harry dodged behind the sofa in time to see a masked figure take a rough tumble down the jinxed stairs. The figure pulled off her mask in frustration, revealing the much reviled face of Bellatrix licked her lips slowly, pointing her wand around the room as she crooned softly_

_ "come on out, potty" I know you are here.."_

_Harry shivered and carefully pointed his wand around the sofa and muttered "sectumsempra!", sending blades of cutting force towards the woman who killed his godfather. Bellatrix spun in a practiced turn, narrowly avoiding the spell and returned a spellchain that pounded the sofa with cutting force, animated it to jump away and expose Harry as well as following up with a stunner directly at his head. As blackness enveloped him he saw the figure of Dumbledore bursting into the house._

"…hat would you like to drink, Sir?"

Harry started from the question and awoke, drenched with sweat, his hand clenched around the slender stick in his hand as if his life depended on it. He was surprised he didn't break his wand while the nightmares wracked his body. waking up from the stupor of his memories, His eyes looked over the full cart with longing before replying "nothing.."

The stewardess smiled understandingly "The cost of the drinks and the food is covered in your ticket – you can have anything you want free of charge"

Immediately, the indecision was wiped form Harry's face. "Coke please" he smiled up at her and then sank back into his seat, allowing the carbonated, sugary beverage to sooth his still pounding heart. He felt a slight twinge of guilt at the thought of how Uncle Vernon could never scream at him again for slacking, or taking more than a freak like him deserved. It was freeing, but he still felt guilty. He should have done more. He should have been faster. He should have ignored Uncle Vernon and not gone shopping.

The thoughts kept spinning in his head despite his best efforts and Harry closed his eyes in a vain effort to push off his impending migraine. "I'm too young to get migraines" he muttered to himself as if it would be the magic balm to ward it off completely. No such luck. Harry closed his eyes.

_…Shallow screaming echoed though the house as he watched the deatheater's body slide to the floor.. swallowing his revulsion he walked forward, determined to save.._

_..Underage magic… Attacked his family… Unacceptable…. Azkaban…. Lord thingy…_

It was a long night.


End file.
